In his new book on conservatism, Yoram Hazony attempts to place himself in the tradition of Lincoln. But Lincoln would have rejected Hazony’s view of him.
In his new book on conservatism, Yoram Hazony attempts to place himself in the tradition of Abraham Lincoln. But Lincoln would have rejected Hazony’s view of him.
T he American conservative movement is at a crossroads. Should it hold fast to the traditions of Ronald Reagan and William F. Buckley Jr., or should it adopt a more nationalist view of politics?
Yoram Hazony is squarely on the side of the latter. Conservatism: A Rediscovery, his latest book, is an attempt to steer the Right toward what he calls National Conservatism, a more tribal and traditionalist iteration of our political philosophy. While right-wing liberalism has served us well in some forms, it has allowed the Left to accelerate the deterioration of our cultural norms. The movement must return, he claims, to the classical Anglo-American conservative tradition, which will provide an antidote to our society’s moral decay, caused by left-wing indulgence of hooliganism.
Hazony’s book is a worthwhile addition to the canon of American conservative thought, but it is not a compass by which our movement should navigate our political struggles. Many thinkers have deconstructed Hazony’s philosophy and highlighted its errors, among them John Bolton for National Review and Peter Berkowitz for the Washington Free Beacon.
But Hazony also fails in outlining his history of American conservatism. He attempts to trace his philosophy from the expositors of an incipient English conservatism of the 15th century, through Edmund Burke and his critiques of the French Revolution, then through the Federalist Party of the early Republic, further through the American Whig Party of the early 19th century, and finally to President Abraham Lincoln’s Republican Party.
It is in claiming Lincoln for his philosophical tradition that Hazony especially falters. Honest Abe would find much of what Hazony writes about the Founding to be untrue.
He sets the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution in opposition to each other, rejecting the former’s principles as “not self-evidently true.” Bolton’s critique (quoting Whittaker Chambers’s critique of Ayn Rand) that Hazony deals “wholly in the whitest whites and the blackest blacks” is eminently applicable here.
The Declaration, Hazony claims, is in the tradition of Enlightenment Liberalism, “famous for promoting the Lockean doctrine of universal rights as ‘self-evident’ before the light of reason.” The Constitution, on the other hand, is “a nationalistic document” that adheres to his principles of Anglo-American conservatism and historical empiricism without breathing “a word about universal reason or universal rights.” But a basic knowledge of the history of the Founding will lead one to question the characterization he gives of the two documents as polar opposites.
For one, the figures Hazony tries to cast as opposites supported the documents that supposedly do not align with their ideas. John Adams, whom Hazony correctly regards as a subscriber to the philosophy of classical conservatism, signed his name to the Declaration with the knowledge that, if the Revolution failed, he would face the gallows. If the Declaration is simply “an abstract formula” and anathema to American conservatism’s emphasis on historical empiricism, it would not make sense for a strong conservative like Adams to sign his life away to it.
We can say the same for classical liberals’ devotion to the Constitution. Thomas Jefferson supported its ratification, though he did have a ridiculous notion (written in a private letter to James Madison) that it should be voted on by every rising generation. Despite this belief that the document might not be correct for subsequent generations, he knew that it was appropriate for his, a reality not compatible with the view that the Constitution is a form of bleach for the stain of Enlightenment liberalism.
Still, Hazony makes a compelling argument that the Declaration is more classically liberal, given that Jefferson was its main author (though it was drafted with Adams, and others), while the Constitution is more classically conservative, given that Alexander Hamilton and James Madison, whom Hazony characterizes as a moderate Virginian and one of Hamilton’s nationalist allies, were its main spokesmen.
The solution to this tension, though, is not to reject either document, but to harmonize them, as Abraham Lincoln did.
Hazony does mention that “Lincoln comfortably mixed Jeffersonian rhetoric with his imposing biblical imagery,” but he does little more to explore that friction. Surely, in a book very much focused on philosophy, it would be appropriate to address Lincoln’s warmness toward Jefferson.
Allen Guelzo has written extensively about Lincoln’s commitment to manifesting the ideals of the Declaration through a devotion to the Constitution. In the days leading up to his inauguration, Lincoln called the Declaration’s promise of liberty to all people an “apple of gold,” something to be valued. This treasure needed proper adornment, and that was where the Constitution, which Lincoln called the “picture of silver,” came into play.
In a letter, he also called Jeffersonian principles “the definitions and axioms of free society” and lamented how “they are denied, and evaded, with no small show of success.” Instead of rejecting the Sage of Monticello, Lincoln believed we should give “all honor to Jefferson.”
For Lincoln, the principles of the two documents complemented and animated each other. This is what drove him to call upon Americans to take up the cause of the “honored dead” at Gettysburg and give the country a “new birth of freedom.”
The history of American conservatism has been a battle against evil philosophies that target our country’s Founding principles. Lincoln had to battle a belief that the Constitution was created to protect slavery. In this crisis and in many others, the solution was to recognize that American conservatism is exceptional because its blending of two seemingly contradictory yet true philosophies leads to victory.
This lesson from conservatism’s past must serve as a guide for its future.